


Upon Baby's Breath

by sunnystarangel (EbayChargers)



Series: Sally Face Fics [1]
Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, Im sunnystarangel on the tunglr go follow me lmao, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, also im very sorry for this entire fic I dont know where I actually got the idea for this lmao, also posted on Wattpad, gotta love that flower symbolism, what is tagging btw??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbayChargers/pseuds/sunnystarangel
Summary: I suffered writing this so y'all get to suffer reading it.Now translated into Russian!https://ficbook.net/readfic/7164266





	Upon Baby's Breath

At first, it had all started as chest pains. Normal things at first, really, after all Larry thought he might’ve been sick. Well, technically he was, but this was a different kind of sick. This was being love sick, literally love sick. Who would’ve known it was possible? After all, most people thought that the hanahaki disease was a work a fiction, just a wive’s tale to keep children from falling in love too early. Most versions of the tale only give the sufferer about a week to live, while others are nicer and say two months. It starts out as just petals or small flower buds, depending on what flower you get stuck with, and eventually can turn into entire flowers, each one more painful than the rest. The flowers root into your lungs, and eventually suffocate you in a mess of buds, roots, petals, and blood. It was a horrible way to die, especially when you know the person you love never loved you back, and it lead to your death. It really left a nauseous feeling, even if you didn’t have it.

Sadly, however, Larry was one of the few to be cursed with this disease. The flowers in his lungs would either grow until they killed him, or die when his emotions are returned. As of now, he’s only had three little buds appear, the sign that something more is coming. They were small, and white or pink in color. There was no blood yet, that would have to wait until the fourth or fifth day, when it really got bad. He’d start coughing up entire bouquets of flowers! All until..

Suddenly coughing, a small black petal flew its way out of his lungs and into the air. Two different kinds of flowers. Though, it seemed it had a friend that wanted to join it, as he hacked up another one, this time blue in hue. Three. Three different kinds of flowers. The smaller ones could only be baby’s breath, which mean purity of emotions, but black and blue roses.. mourning and impossibility. Now, Larry could be wrong in what his guess for the meaning of this combination is, but it could only mean one thing in his mind; though his love is pure, it’ll forever be unrequited. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He doesn’t even know who he’s in love with, and yet he’s going to die because of them. He’s going to die because of this one person, who his heart just decided to love all the sudden without telling him.

He couldn’t help but get frustrated, digging his palms into his thighs slightly. He had to figure out who this person is within the week, just in case. He had seven days at the least, and two months at most. The worst of it would be around the end of.. well, let’s just hope it comes to that later. Biting his lip and taking a deep breath in attempt to not get angry, he made his decision; he’d figure out who he loves, and then he’d get them to fall in love with him too. Telling anybody would be a bad idea, and people finding out would also be bad, so he’d lay low for awhile. He’d just have to hope. Hope that he can save his own life before these damned flowers kill him. If he couldn’t save himself, then.. he hoped he’d die as happy as he possibly can, at least. Maybe try to make it look like an accident, and not death by flower suffocation. He’d make sure to let his mom know he much he appreciates her in the following.. however long he has. Then, he’d die, knowing he at least made a dent in someone’s life.

He really hoped it didn’t come to that.

~-~-~-~

The following Monday went just about as smooth as it possible could’ve. Classes went by as boring as usual, the school lunch was a gross as usual, and the rest of the day was as boring as usual. The few times Larry had to cough up buds and petals were easy to hide as everyday coughing, hiding the petals was easy enough. He’d stick them in his jacket pocket, and keep them there until he could throw them away or flush them in the bathroom. Easy enough. It was harder when the chest pains that accompanied these flowers grew worse, making everything about the school environment all the more uncomfortable. Not only were there screaming children, horrid smells, and blinding lights, there was also chest pain that was growing increasingly worse. How great! Along with the most unwanted chest pains, came the trademarked sensory headache! Sense the sarcasm yet?

Though, these things just made the end of the day all the better. Getting away from the uncomfortable school environment and to a safer, more controlled one, was amazing. Though, seems the world had one more thing out for him; his goal throughout the entire day. At the end of the school day, he and Sal always walked home together. Sometimes, these walks were quiet. Not a singular word was uttered, and they were both okay with that. Sometimes, one of them had a bad day, or just wasn’t up for talking, and they both respected that. Sometimes, these walks had deep conversations within them, only to be cut short when they enter the apartments. Today, there was small chatter, and that’s when the realization came.  
Larry was in love with Sal. Sal was the cause of the hanahaki. Sal caused the flowers. Sal was literally killing him just by being adorable. What a nice realization.

As the conversation ended and the rest of the walk was silent, Larry found himself staring at Sal the entire walk to the apartments, unable to take his eyes off of him. Biting his lip and digging his nails into his palms, Larry willed himself to look away. Holding back the urge to cough, which could only have been brought on by the flowers, he took a deep breath. Counting to four, holding it, and then releasing. His heart calmed down only the slightest bit, and he knew there was a light blush covering his freckled face. He noticed that the air was starting to get warmer, though only the tiniest bit. Even so, the tiniest bit of warmer air was appreciated…

“Larry, hey, earth to Larry,” Sal’s voice interrupted Larry’s thoughts about the air, obviously trying to get his attention. Larry looked down at Sal, making sure the smaller teen knew that his attention was grabbed. “I asked if you wanted to maybe go be monkey children with me, Todd, and Ash tomorrow. Don’t think you heard, though.”  
“That depends, what kind of monkey children?” Larry asks, even though he fully intended on saying yes anyways.

“We’re going to the local Ihop and wrecking the place with our shenanigans,” Sal answers, looking somewhat proud of himself under his prosthetic.

“Hell yeah, count me in,” Larry says, smiling, “let the reign of the monkey children begin.”

~-~-~-~

After school on Tuesday, the group of Sal, Larry, Todd, and Ash all made their way to the local Ihop. It was all fine and dandy until the group took notice of Larry getting up to ‘go to the bathroom’ a lot more often than usual. Around lunch, buds and petals had started to appear more often, along with the occasional 1/12 of a stem. Still no blood, so that’s a good sign. Though, the group catching onto something being fishy wasn’t a good sign.

“Dude, are you okay?” Sal asks first, worry laced into his tone.

Larry shrugs, responding with a simple “I think I might be getting sick.”

That was a lie, he is sick. He’s sick and dying at this very moment.

“The flu is currently going around, I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one of us caught it,” Todd comments.

“That’s true,” Larry adds, shrugging. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, in an attempt to calm himself down even slightly. He was getting nervous about them finding out about the flowers, as even now buds and petals were trying to force their way out of his lungs. Telling himself to just focus on keeping the flowers back, even if it would block out his friend’s words, he started to feel even more buds, petals, and tiny pieces of stems trying to come out. The buds and petals backed off when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Sal.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Larry nods.

Besides that one incident, the rest of the day went smoothly from there, and Larry learned something about hanahaki. Touch from the loved one makes the flowers go away for awhile.

~-~-~-~

By Wednesday, there were thorns from the roses coming up too. Nearly entire rosebuds, black and blue in color. Coughing up these flowers was really starting to hurt, and they were growing in size and number so fast that there was no way to flush them down the toilet without being in there for an hour. Larry had to find another way to dispose of the flowers, throwing them away would be too obvious. He can’t exactly hide them in his pocket anymore, they’re too noticeable. It was starting to get harder to breathe, and his chest was really starting to hurt now. Imagine having 1,000 tiny knives in your chest, all stabbing you at once. That’s how it felt.

So for all of Wednesday, Larry skipped school and hid in the treehouse. He would tell his friends that he just got sick and couldn’t come to school. The flower buds and stems that came up got shoved into a corner, just so he wouldn’t have to stare at them. The first droplets of blood had fallen earlier that day, staining perfect white and blue. The emotion wasn’t so pure now, was it? It was tainted with something else. If it were possible, the flowers would’ve been the impurity. By The end of the day, he had started coughing up entire flowers. Practically homemade bouquets, if there wasn’t blood on them he’d sell them. He spent his day hidden away in his treehouse, not daring to leave it. He found the idea of this treehouse being his resting place almost comforting, almost. He didn’t want to die. He also didn’t want anybody finding out about the flowers.

But that’s what happened. It was the one person who was causing the flowers who was the first to find out, of course that’s how it happened. Though, it just happened that the ladder to the treehouse wasn’t a quiet one, so that gave him enough of a head’s up to try and hide the flowers before-

“Larry?”

Oh no. Oh no... no no no no no no. 

“Hey, hey, Larry, breathe.”

Count to four, hold… release. Do it once, twice.. Thrice?

“Is this where you’ve been all day?”

He nods. Then silence. Four beats, then eight, until..

“Why are there flowers in the corner?”

Larry shrugs, trying to play it off as if he didn’t know. Though, it seems that flowers are assholes, as he started hacking up a lung, only to be met with three black rosebuds with tiny  
stems. Fuck. 

“Oh.. oh no.”

~-~-~-~

By Thursday, he knew he was running out of time. The flowers became more frequent, his group of friends all knew about the flowers, and his mom was sure to find out soon as well. By this point, he basically lived in the treehouse. He found himself unable to eat, as it would just come back up with the flowers. He could drink water, but nothing else. Even some water came up with the flowers, but not much. There were entire flowers coming up, and he was running out of places to put them. Sal was constantly checking on him when possible, which seemed to make the flowers worsen. Sal didn’t know that, so there was no reason to be mad or frustrated with Sal.. and yet, it seemed that Larry couldn’t help but get frustrated. He dug the heels of his palms into his thighs, something he always does when frustrated. He took a deep breath, counting for four, holding it, and then releasing. Over the past few days he had stopped talking completely, his friends using mostly yes or no questions so all he had to do was nod or shake his head.

Around the end of what could only be the school day, Sal popped in again. He was obviously worried, it was laced in practically his entire being. It only made the flowers worse. Baby’s breath, black roses, blue roses, the entire deal.

“Is it still getting worse again?”

Larry nodded.

“Do pain meds work on it?”

This time, he shook his head. He tried earlier with pain meds, but they did nothing.

“...do you know who caused it?”

He nodded, not lying about it.

“Can you tell me who?”

He nodded again, before pointing at Sal. There was silence, until finally, it clicked.

“…me?”

Larry nods. Managing to get out only a few words before he's suddenly hacking up a lung again, he says only four words; “please don't be upset.”

“It’s just.. a lot to take in. I guess I just.. hadn't expected..” Sal’s words seem to get lost in his mind, before he settles on one word only; “that.”

Larry tilts his head, silently asking what ‘that’ is. Though before Sal could answer, it suddenly felt like something was ripping through Larry’s chest. He was coughing, and coughing, and coughing. Entire flowers were coming out of him, each one seemingly longer, bigger, and more eager to come out than the last. Though, that's all Larry remembered.

~-~-~-~

By Friday morning, news had spread around the school about the incident, though only one person knew the true story. Sal told Todd and Ash about what happened, though he left out some bits. There was one thing that each of them knew, however; their group of four is most likely going to become a group of three. Throughout the entire day, there was only one thing buzzing around. Constant reminders about it everywhere. The most horrible part of it? They were right. Because by Saturday morning, at 2 am, the group was hit with the news.  
None of them could see flowers in the same way again. Not without remembering what had happened, what had killed. They would looks outside and see just that lone flower, and they would remember how Larry was covered head to toe in freckles. They would remember that one large section of green in his left eye, something naturally brown. They would remember how he laughed and acted. But most of all, they would remember how the Hanahaki disease was a horrible thing. They would forever be able to understand what it felt like to lose someone to simple flowers. None of them dared to leave flowers on his grave, instead they left art, photos, and things that reminded them of him.

It seemed no matter how hard they tried, they'd never be able to forget. Though maybe, they didn't want to. Remembering is always the hardest part, after all.


End file.
